Reluctant heroes
by Kairan1979
Summary: Post-Noir AU. "Somebody should've told you, kid. There are no heroes in Metropolis". Ten years passed… is it still true?
1. Chapter 1

_**Title: **__Reluctant heroes_

_**Author**__: Kairan1979._

_**Fandom**__: Smallville._

_**Spoilers**__: Noir._

_**Caterogy**__: General/Drama._

_**Disclaimer**__ - I own nothing Smallville-related and will in no way make profit from this story._

_**Summary**__: Post-Noir. "Somebody should've told you, kid. There are no heroes in Metropolis". Ten __years __passed__… __is __it __still __true__?_

_**A/N**__: I'm not planning to forget about another two Smallville stories, "Man of Steel and the Vixen" and"Journey X". In fact, new chapter for one of them is almost ready._

* * *

A couple sitting in the corner of cafe was in the middle of a serious argument.

"…a miracle that I managed to get tickets for the premiere of "King Solomon's Mines" And guess what happened? My girl forgot about me because of the robbery on the other side of the city. Robberies happen every day; it's not the end of the world, and certainly not a reason to stand me up".

"It wasn't just a robbery, and you know it, Bart", calmly answered Chloe Sullivan. She was annoyed by her boyfriend's behavior but didn't want to show it. Yet.

Bart Allen, forensic expert in famous "**Kent and Allen: Detective Agency**" feigned surprise "No? Did I forget something..? Oh, yes, silly me! I completely forgot about masked lunatic who jumped out of the shadows and scared both robbers and victims! And then ran away before cops could ask him a question or two!"

Green-eyed blonde glared at her boyfriend "Bart, why are you so dense? How can you ignore all the people he saved?"

"I'll answer you question by asking my own – when did the best reporter in Daily Planet become so trusting? Tell me, Chloe, what exactly do you know about this guy? And I'm not asking about his fashion sense. Yes, I agree that he scared a lot of two-bit thugs. How about the big fish like your favorite Intergang? They'd eat your pseudo-Zorro alive if he tried to do something on their territory. But it looks like he is smart enough not to try. What if he was hired by Mannheim to scare possible rivals?"

"That's ridiculous! How can you believe that…?"

"A good detective can't ignore versions just because he doesn't like them. I've heard the same about good reporters".

"You asked what I know about him. I know enough to understand that he cares about our city and wants it to be a better place!"

"And _I_ don't care?"

"Bart, I didn't mean..."

But detective didn't want to listen to apologies. "Chloe, our agency probably put more criminals behind bars than your Mr. Hero ever seen. But we are ordinary guys living ordinary lives, and you'd never look at me – or Clark – like you look every time _his_ name is mentioned!"

"You think I'm shallow?"

Bart's smile was sad "I have a lot of words to describe Chloe Sullivan, and "shallow" isn't one of them. But last two weeks you were surely acting like one! How many times you ran away because your informants saw a shadow of his hat in Suicide Slums?"

"Bart, I'm investigative reporter. You knew it when we started dating. It's my job..."

"Your job is to write stories, not to fall in love with them".

Chloe's calm mask started cracking "Don't you see? It's not about my nonexistent feelings. I want to expose Major's connections to Intergang. I can't go for help to Grizzly Lombard or Cat Grant. I'm the only reporter in this city trying to tell people the truth. And I hope to get hints for my investigation from him".

"Can't you leave digging to the pros?"

"You mean Clark and yourself? Thanks, but I'll pass. Clark Kent is too well-known as a private eye, and you, my dear Bartholomew, are the greatest forensic expert in Metropolis, but you haven't been in a real fight since High School".

Bart winced. He didn't like his full name. When Chloe used it, it's the sign that she is really, really pissed off. But he couldn't stop himself.

"So you don't want Clark to do what he does best, and for me it's too dangerous. But for Chloe Sullivan it's just a piece of cake? Don't you see holes in this logic?" Bart continued, not expecting answer from Chloe "Please, stop pretending that you are looking for _him_ because you need another interview! I see stars in your eyes every time _he_ is mentioned".

"Then you need glasses!!!"

"You know what? I tried, Chlo, I really tried, but I can't do it anymore. I had enough. You must choose - either to stay with me or to go away and pursue your mystery man in red cape!"

"You don't trust me?"

"When this man is around? I'm afraid that the answer is "No".

"What happened to Bart Allen I always liked? You never were so angry, jealous, and possessive".

"I had no reasons before".

"You made a mistake. I don't like ultimatums".

"And I don't like being led on. And certainly I don't want to be your safety net when you realize that mystery man isn't going to sweep you off your feet. That's the only reason why I asked you to make a choice. Is it so hard?" Bart took a deep breath "Chloe, I'm going home. Call me when you figure out what do you want. Or don't call, I'll get the message and stop bothering you. See, I always give you a choice. I hope that you'd remember it".

Bart stood up, threw several bills at the table and left cafe without saving good-bye.

* * *

Bart didn't see where he is going. Anger blurred his sight when he roamed through empty dark streets and dangerous alleys. Then Bart felt familiar sensation. He was being watched.

"It's you?"

"No, it's Ghost of Christmas Past. We need to talk".

"So talk".

"First you tell me what happened in café".

Dark silhouette in fedora hat and crimson trench coat, with face covered by mask, stepped out of the shadows.

"How much did you hear?" Bart wearily asked.

"More than enough" answered masked man. "Are you crazy?"

"Why? I told Chloe what she needed to hear long time ago".

"That's not what I mean. Our intrepid reporter doesn't like ultimatums. And she doesn't like persons who give ultimatums. So consider yourself _persona non grata_ in Chloe's friends' list".

"Tell me something I don't know", Bart's chuckle was short and humorless.

"And yet you threatened her?"

"I had to".

Long uncomfortable silence filled the air. Then masked man said "I'm sorry, Bart".

"Sorry for what? _I'm_ the one who broke up with her", answered Bart Allen.

"But I'm the man who inadvertently destroyed of your relationship. I hope you don't regret the decision to help me?"

"Are you kidding me? Crimson Avenger is the best thing that happened to me! And you are too noble to encourage Chloe, so this mess isn't your fault at all. It was bad enough when I ad to fight Olsen's shadow, but then…" Bart felt uneasy and quickly changed theme "By the way, how's your utility belt?"

"I'd be out of ammo for gas gun soon. And only two flash grenades left".

"Heavens! What did you do with them? Ate? Or used as fireworks? "

"Rough night. Two rival gangs. They almost cornered me".

"I'm looking forward to hear this story. But not today, I'm not in the mood for stories".

"I understand".

"I'll start working on flash grenades tomorrow".

"Ok".

Suddenly Bart chuckled again. And again, his smile wasn't cheerful.

"What?"

"I just thought that it could be much easier if she fell in love with Clark Kent".

"Easier for both of us" agreed the hero.

_(To be continued…)_

* * *

**A/N**: _Crimson Avenger (Lee Travis) was one of the first costumed heroes. His __original mask, hat and cloak of the Crimson Avenger are used in a special ritual whenever a new member joins the JLA, in honor of him being "the first of our kind". I had to change character to insert him into Smallville Noir universe._


	2. Chapter 2

Talon used to be one of the finest places in Metropolis, but it wasn't the same after Lionel Luthor was arrested.

Clark Kent made his way to the bar, found a seat and ordered a beer.

Usually Clark tried to avoid Talon - this place brought painful memories. Today he had no choice.

He was told by the new client to meet her at 8 o'clock. Clark had no idea why she couldn't just come to his office, but, judging by their brief conversation, she was very stubborn. Keep pushing, and she'd hung up the phone..

_She argues for the sake of arguing? So be it. Beggars can't be choosers._

Detective took his beer and retreated to strategically-chosen table. Now Clark could watch who comes through the door without drawing too much attention to himself.

Сasually drinking his beer, he glanced at the blonde singer. She was a nice girl, and whoever was her music teacher did a good job, but Luthor's ex-girlfriend could beat her without even trying.

Clark took out his pocket watch. The woman was twenty minutes late. No, twenty-two minutes.

_Typical. Chloe Sullivan is the only one punctual woman I knew._

"Well, well, well! Clark Kent, long time no see!"

"Jim!" detective stood up to greet an old friend.

James Harper's handshake was as strong and firm as years ago, when Clark Kent just had opened his agency.

Clark wasn't in the Most Popular Person list among Metropolis P.D. His past in undercover unit only messed things up. Everybody knew the story about Lex Luthor's murder. Petite raven-haired womanfooled both her husband and a cop who was supposed to watch after Luthor, but ended up falling in love with his wife instead.

It was a major blow to Clark's pride. He believed that he was a good judge of character, talented detective, but where did his skills go when he flew straight into the web of Lana's deception?

Clark considered leaving Metropolis, but chose to stay and fight. Fortunately, he met Bart Allen, forensic expert who retired and left Keystone City after his lab was blown up. Bart suspected that there was a mole working for Mafia in his precinct, but the explosion destroyed everything he could use as an evidence. Nobody could understand Clark's necessity to prove his self-worth better.

Together they founded **"Kent and Allen : Detective Agency"**. After a few years of hard work Clark and Bart became well-known in Metropolis, but most of the police officers still considered Kent-Allen team a nuisance.

James Harper, though, wasn't biased against former colleagues. They often compared notes and pooled sources when the case was too hard to crack. Their skills complimented each other. Harper had twenty-five years of experience. Clark was good in noticing clues that others missed. Sometimes Harper joked about Clark having X-Ray vision. And Bart Allen could perform real miracles in his new lab, it was amazing how little time it took for him to run tests and get the results.

Harper, brave honorable man with a big heart, reminded Clark a lot of his father Jonathan. And Jim saw in Clark younger version of himself, with the same thirst for justice. So it wasn't a big surprise when their partnership turned into friendship. Mrs. Harper liked "Kent Boy" too.

"I've heard you don't like this place, son", said Jim after they shook hands. "Things changed?"

"No. I'm here to meet with client, that's all", explained Clark. "But she is late".

"_She?_" Jim winked at him. "Is she pretty?"

"I have no idea". True, but it seemed Jim isn't going to buy it. "No, really, Jim, We only talked on the phone".

"If your mystery woman is late, how about a game of pool?"

"Sorry, Jim, but I have to say "no". You don't play for free, and I'm a bit low on cash. Last job went south, you know, and we just redecorated the office, so..."

Harper snorted "Relax, Kent. I'm cop, not a robber, your wallet is safe. How about a bet?"

Clark raised his eyebrows "Um, what do you have in mind?"

"If you win, I'll give you brand new flashlight. If you lose... hmm... ah, that's perfect! If you lose, I'll point out at a girl and you ask her on a date".

"What's the catch?"

"You must do your best, use that infamous Kent Charm of yours to make her agree", Harper replied grinning happily.

Clark sighed. Apparently it was another matchmaking attempt. Jim Harper was an epitome of family man despite his occupation. And he wanted his young friend to find a good woman to settle down with. Clark already went on several Harper-arranged blind dates.

_I'm not ready to settle down yet. And even if I was... _

"So? Wanna play?"

Dark-haired man looked at his friend, then took out the watch. The woman was thirty minutes late.

"OK, let's play!"

They grabbed pool sticks and walked towards the table.

"You break" said Jim.

Clark's cue hit the white ball. It broke the formation of balls, and 1-ball was sent straight to the pocket. Clark kept silence, but smiled at his little victory.

Detective walked around the table, checking out the possibilities to get 2-ball, then leaned down, preparing to shoot. He missed.

"My turn" said Jim and easily sunk 2-ball into a side pocket. "That's better". Cue ball bounced off an edge and brought 3-ball into a pocket. "Much, much better". Jim slammed the cue ball, sending 4 into side pocket.

_Not my lucky day... _thought Clark.

"And now..." 5-ball was pushed into the corner pocket, "...better prepare..." the cue ball bounced three times before sinking 6, "...for your date!"

Clark interrupted him "My "date" just had arrived". Tall dark-haired woman wearing elegant black hat and black dress, veil covering half of her face, just stepped through the door. She looked a bit nervous, and was as out of place in Talon as Jim Harper would be at vintage clothing boutique.

Clark noticed her. He also noticed something else through the half-opened door.

"GET DOWN!"

The woman reacted immediately. She hit the floor, and the bullet whizzed over her head. Clark's revolver went off immediately. He heard yelp of pain, and the man in charcoal-black suit disappeared before detective could shoot again.

"What the hell was that?" Harper stood ready, with his gun looking at the door. "Are you okay, kid?"

"He's gone", said Clark with icy calmness. "Plymouth, dirtied license plates. But he is wounded. We can acquire blood sample, if we are lucky".

Jim looked at his friend and didn't like what he saw. Clark managed to suppress his emotions completely somehow, and this wasn't healthly. But it was neither place nor time to talk, and old cop acknowledged it.

"I'll call Turpin. And you must talk to your client. Find out if she knows something".

"That's exactly what I was going to do, Jim", Clark let out a small smile.

He approached the woman, who was already back on her feet. "Miss, are you..." He stopped dead in his tracks.

She changed her haircut, modest black dress wasn't like the ones she used to wear years ago. But hazel eyes and defiant expression on her face hadn't change, and it was more than enough.

"Miss _Lola Dane_? What a surprise!" It was a surprise indeed. And not a nice one.

_(To be continued...)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

**

* * *

**"Coffee?"

"I don't want it. Thanks anyway".

She was breathtakingly beautiful - face of an angel, long dark hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and the hourglass figure. Lola Dane wasn't his type, Clark Kent liked petite women more, but he could easily see why Lex Luthor, of all people, was planning to divorce Lana and marry this woman.

_Lola Dane in my office. Unbelievable._

After Luthor's unfortunate demise the officials tried to bring Lola Dane to questioning, only to find that the woman disappeared without a trace. Rumor mill speculated for months about her relationship with Luthor. Clark was a bit curious too. They found nothing to prove that Lola was aware of Luthor's shady dealings, but this meant nothing. Women can be very good in covering their tracks.

Now Lola Dane was back; a disaster waiting to happen. Lex Luthor learned it the hard way. And Clark wasn't going to risk his career again because of the woman.

"So, Ms. Dane, what brought you back to Metropolis? And why did you forget to mention the men after your pretty head?"

"In my defense I can say that I had no idea that they followed me all the way from Chicago to Metropolis".

"Followed? I was under an impression that the shooter was sent by one of your ex-boyfriend's business associates," Clark said. "If I was able to recognize infamous Lola Dane, the gangster with a good eye could do the same".

"That's just where you are wrong. That hitman wasn't after Lola Dane. I stopped using this name after… you know," Clark nodded, trying his best to keep the poker face.

"Out of curiosity – what's your real name?"

She looked at him nervously, "Usually I don't tell my name to the strangers. But I was convinced that you can keep a secret," Clark saw that she made a decision, not the easiest one. "I'm Lois Lane".

_Lois Lane… Lois Lane… where can I hear this name?_

"I assume your last name have something to do with General Samuel Lane?" Clark's eyes sparkled with renewed interest.

"Not 'something', Detective. Everything. I'm his daughter," Lois said with a mix of sadness and pride. "That's why I fled from Metropolis. We are not close. But I couldn't allow his name to be dragged through the mud and his military career ruined because of my mistakes".

Clark chuckled, "If you were worried for your father's reputation, you made a funny choice of profession".

"I was working undercover".

"What, you too?"

"...working undercover as a freelance reporter. Now can you keep your snide remarks to yourself? They are not funny at all".

"Freelance reporter? Explanation as good as any. So tell me again, Miss Lane, why these men were after you, if they didn't know that you were Luthor's ex-girlfriend?"

"Can I just say that they were working for Intergang?" Lois sighed, "I see the answer in your eyes. You want more, you want the whole story. Guess I can't blame you after today's shooting. Detective, I already told you that I'm freelance reporter. I never wrote under my real name," Lois leaned in closer and asked in a hushed voice. "Does the name 'Wanda Detroit' ring any bells for you?"

_So she is Wanda Detroit now? Why not Queen of Sheba?_

"Lola Dane, Lois Lane or Wanda Detroit, it doesn't change the fact that put me and my friend on the line of fire. This pretty much annuls all the verbal agreements between us".

"Are you sure you are a detective, Mr. Kent. You talk like a lawyer".

"Honestly? I have no reason to trust you. I don't know if your words are true, or you are just messing up with me. What I know is that street fighting is less dangerous than risking my neck following your crazy schemes".

"What if I have a letter from a person you know, and this person can vouch for me?"

Clark asked mockingly, "Who, President Eisenhower?"

Lois smiled wickedly, "Better. Lori Lemaris".

Clark knocked his cup of coffee from the desk, but didn't notice.

* * *

_"Dear Clark,_

_Maybe you are wondering why I am writing this letter to you. I'm wondering too._

_I was very, very angry when I learned that you are alive. I kept asking myself the same questions – how could Clark do this to me? How could he allow me to believe that he died in plane crash, that his life was the price of my rescue? I wondered if I meant so little for you. I wanted to jump the first train to Metropolis and confront you. I wanted to ask, if our love was real, if YOU were real._

_Guess I saw too many movies and was disappointed because I was robbed of my happy ending, ride off to the sunset and living happily ever after. Looking backwards, I'm starting to understand that it was a wise decision. Very cold, not Clark-like at all, but wise. What we had together was wonderful, but it couldn't last. Love is not always enough. We came from different worlds. You know what a wise man said: a bird can marry a fish, but where they are going to live?_

_The memories hurt, but not as much as before, because I'm not the same woman. I got married! _

_I must confess that it was an arranged marriage. At first I was too frustrated and angry to protest. Then it dawned on me that I'm stuck with the man I barely know. _

_Arthur saw through my doubts and insecurities. He told me that the wedding was a bit rushed, and offered to spend the honeymoon on his yacht, a good chance to get to know him better. It was a honeymoon of discoveries. And __I was astonished when I understood what an unexpected gift of fate he was. _

_Arthur is one of the best men I've met, strong, brave, with a kind heart (not to mention the body of a Greek sculpture). And he loves the sea as much as I do. I'm good in swimming, but Arthur swims like a fish. _

_I think I'm falling for him, that's one of the reasons of writing this letter. I want to move on, and I want you to know how I feel._

_The other reason is Lois. Please take care of her. Lo doesn't know when to quit, and can't recognize mortal danger if it kicked her in the tail. When she was in school, she wanted to fight Nazis like Lady Blackhawk – can you believe it? Aunt Ellen barely stopped her from running away._

_I told Lois that you are the bravest man I've met, and very good in keeping secrets. I hope you are not planning to make me a liar._

_Always a friend,_

_Lori Lemaris._

_P.S. What's with you and initials L.L.?"_

_

* * *

_"Thanks, by the way," said Lois when she saw that Clark finished reading.

"Thanks for what?"

"For saving her life, of course. We were best friends in school. Off the record, Detective – how did you survive?"

"I don't want to talk about it," the memories weren't pleasant.

Lois wasn't prying, "Fine for me. Then let's talk business? I hope you understand why my pen name is a secret?"

"Because Wanda Detroit wasn't pulling the punches and her articles offended a lot of influential people?" Clark offered. "Including Intergang? And now Intergang learned who you really are?"

"No. If they knew, they'd sent their best men, Deadshot or Phantasm, not a couple of glorified thugs. They only found out that I'm connected to Wanda, as one of her informants. My murder was supposed to be is a warning for Wanda to stop digging".

"Could this work?"

"Could they scare Wanda Datroit into dropping the case? No way! She'd start digging twice as hard. Wanda works overtime when it's personal!"

_Why does she talk about herself in the third person?_

"That's what I was afraid of," Clark said darkly. "So what do you want from me? I'm a private eye, not a bodyguard".

"Detective, I don't expect you to walk on water or defeat Intergang single-handily. It's not your war anyway. All I need from you is to find out who ordered the hit on me and help me to bring him to the justice," Lois looked at Clark expectantly. "I showed my hand, Detective, what do you say? Can I count on you?"

_What the heck? You only live once. And that's Wanda Datroit, the Mad Dog.__If she can't find a chink in the armor of Intergang, who can?_

"I'll take the case, Miss Lane".

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
